The Sunrise
by Misoka Mine
Summary: Before Kamui is about to leave Tokyo, Fuuma goes to see him and give him his goodbye. FuuKam. Shonenai warning.


The Sunrise 

By: Misoka Mine

Disclaimer: I do not own X, Fuuma, Kamui, or any of the other characters or places mentioned in this fic.

Warning: chibi shonen-ai

Rating: G

Summary: Early the morning of Saya's funeral, Kamui's mother comes in and tells him that they're leaving for Okinawa. Confused and lonely, Kamui cries and gives them a goodbye he know they can't hear. What he doesn't know is that someone does hear him, and comes to comfort him. FuuKam, chibi shonen-ai.

* * *

"Kamui, listen to me," his mother said, gently shaking him awake. Kamui sat up sleepily, rubbing the his eyes. "We're going off today. We're going away before the sun comes up." 

"Where are we going?" asked Kamui. "Are Kotori and Fuuma coming with us?"

His mother's smile faltered, and she slowly shook her head. "No, Kamui, we're not going on a vacation. We're leaving Tokyo, and moving to Okinawa."

Kamui stared at his mother, dumbfounded, before he could find the words to protest. "But, what about Kotori and Fuuma? Don't I get to tell them goodbye?"

She looked down sadly at Kamui's hand, rubbing her thumb absently across his knuckles. "I'm sorry, but we have to go before they wake up. They'll understand, Kamui, that you had to leave."

She stood up before Kamui could reply. "Now, I have breakfast on the table. I want you dressed and down for breakfast in fifteen minutes, no excuses," she told him in a softer tone then she had meant for that line.

Kamui followed his mother with his eyes, his legs somehow not having the energy to move, and his eyes were having that burning sensation…and, that was when he broke down and cried. He cried only for a few minutes, scared of his mother's reproach, but that heavy feeling in his heart didn't go away as he unenthusiastically ate his breakfast and went outside.

On opening the front door, he noted thatthe sky was white, that predawn white that tints the dark sky before a rainy day begins. Right then, though,it was dry, almost too dry to bear. Kamui felt it shouldn't be dry- it was too sad a day, with Aunt Saya being dead and him leaving his dearest friends forever. How could the sky not be pouring down with rain, as it always did in movies when the hero was sad?

He knew he was about to cry again. The tears filled up in his mauve eyes before spilling over, leaving Kamui helpless to the sobs that shook the whole of his small frame. It felt as if his whole life were being taken away from him, right then. It was like he was being put on a ship that was going to sail over the edge of the world, into the darkest abyss far worse than any story had ever described to him.

He leaned up against the car, away from the view of his window. Somehow, he felt ashamed, crying so much. His mother must be sad too- at least his friends were alive. Aunt Saya was dead, and she'd never see her again. But, his own sadness was too strong to ignore, and he couldn't stop the tears.

"Goodbye Kotori, goodbye Fuuma," he said softly to the awakening morning, the wind blowing past him. There was no reply. Kamui didn't know why he'd expect one. But, somehow, he was sure he had been heard.

Fuuma jerked awake, but his vision wasn't letting him see his room. All he could see was the image of Kamui-kun standing outside in the dark, next to his mother's car, telling him and Kotori goodbye.

He sat up, and the vision dispersed like smoke. His chest felt heavy- he was more then used to that feeling, since his mother's death. Fuuma cringed at the memory of it, his mother torn to bits and her blood splashed all over the walls like a horrible painting…

But, this, it felt different to Fuuma. Somehow, by some instinct, he knew that this feeling wasn't his own. It was Kamui's, his pain at the thought of leaving Kotori and him. It never occurred to Fuuma that it might be a dream. Something in him knew it wasn't, and he knew that what he had just seen hadn't happened long ago.

Without thinking, Fuuma opened his window and stepped down onto the overhanging under his window. He cautiously walked along it until he reached the edge. Something inside him told him that he could jump down and land easily on the ground. Deciding to test his instincts, he jumped.

He landed easily on the stone, shaky more from the shock then the actual landing. He looked out- directly in front of him was the steps down from the shrine, onto the sidewalk next to the street. From here, there was no turning back. He knew he either had to stay here and go back to bed, or go and see Kamui and give him his goodbye.

It was Fuuma's sadness of possibly not telling his friend good bye, and possibly never seeing him again, that drove him into a fast run down the dark stairs and down the street toward Kamui's house.

His house wasn't far from the shrine. He and Kotori had gone there loads of times. But, never had Fuuma gone there in the dark. It gave him a terrible sense of foreboding, a feeling that darkness hung over him. He had never felt that way until recently. But, now, he couldn't escape that feeling that he was never alone, and that the eyes that watched him were not kind and gentle.

He stopped at the familiar gateway that was Kamui's house, and he stopped and looked around. The area was lit a streetlamp across the road, and with hope n his heart he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He hoped what he had seen was just a dream, and that Kamui would be there tomorrow to cheer Kotori and him up after the funeral, when he heard a familiar sound: crying, which he had heard more often then not lately.

He moved towards the sound, and he found Kamui sitting on the driveway, leaning against the car, crying into his knees. His heart seemed to throb with pain at the sight of his friend crying so desperately. Unconsciously, he gently called out, "Kamui…"

Kamui looked up, his eyes shining in the faint light. "Fuuma?" he stood up, his legs and voice shaky. His pale face was tear streaked, and its shinning made Kamui-kun's eyes all the more pronounced.

"I'm right here, Kamui. What's going on?"

He looked up at Fuuma, his eyes filling up with tears again. Before he could even react, Kamui had griped his shoulders and leaned his head onto Fuuma's shoulder. Fuuma had grown used to Kotori coming up to him, crying, and he had learned how to make her feel better.

But when Kamui came up to him, Fuuma didn't know what to do. He just tightly hugged Kamui, trying to comfort his dearest friend. Somehow, it felt different to see Kamui crying then to see Kotori crying. It made him want to cry too.

After Kamui had cried for a few minutes, he had calmed down enough to tell him what was going on. It chilled Fuuma to the bone to think of it. _Okinawa- but it's so far away! How can she take him to all the way there?_

"I don't want to go, Fuuma! You and Kotori are my best friends- I don't want to leave you all."

"I know, Kamui. I don't want you to go either."

"Really?" he asked, looking up into his eyes. "You'll miss me if I'm gone?"

Suddenly, Fuuma felt awkward. His face grew hot, and he couldn't tell why he was blushing, but he knew he was. He decided to just tell him the truth. "Of course we'll miss you Kamui! Kotori and I will think of you everyday."

Kamui looked at him for a moment, and then he smiled. His hair was sticking to his tear stained face, and new tears were dripping out of his closed eyes. "I'm glad. I don't know how I'll be able to leave you both. You, and Kotori, make me so happy. I'll miss you a lot when I'm gone."

Fuuma didn't know why, but when Kamui had told him that, he felt as if he were just talking to him. Kotori-chan was just another person on the street- it was just him and Kamui.

And, without even realizing what he was doing, Fuuma leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. Kamui seemed surprised, but Fuuma was too dazed to notice. He noted that Kamui tasted like coffee- his mother must have let him have some of hers. He knew it had cream and sugar in it, and Fuuma knew he would associate that taste with Kamui always. Still lightheaded, he broke the kiss and stood up, his face significantly redder then it had been.

He was two years older then Kamui and Kotori, and that made him eleven. He had heard from his classmates about people who fell in love with people of the same gender. Fuuma had never thought too much about it, not really realizing what kind of relationship his mother and Kamui's mother had been in.

But, standing there in the early morning after having just kissed another boy, Fuuma suddenly realized that he had fallen in love with a boy, and that was not considered normal under most circumstances. But, it didn't matter to him, since Kamui was just…more special to him then anyone else he had ever known.

But, when Fuuma looked at Kamui, whose big mauve eyes were opened wide in shock, and his face shining from crying before, he didn't care that it was supposedly wrong. Not at all. In fact, he wondered how anyone could not like Kamui-kun.

"Um, Fuuma?" asked Kamui, gently pulling on his sleeve. He came out of his reprieve, blushing a bright red.

"Yes, Kamui?"

"Thank you," he said, smiling. "I love you too Fuuma."

Fuuma sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. _I don't think that you understand how my love is different from yours, Kamui._

"Kamui," he started, but was stopped when he heard the sound of the front door being opened. "I better go," he said.

"Kamui! Help me get all these boxes down from your room," said Aunt Tooru.

"Coming," he told her. He looked back at Fuuma, and he had the feeling he was about to cry again.

"I don't want to leave here. What if I never see you again?"

"I…" he said, looking down at the ground. That feeling that Fuuma had always had, especially when it came to Kamui, spoke comforting words to him now. He looked at Kamui and smiled. "We'll see each other again."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," he told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Kamui managed to swallow down his tears and smile at him. "I believe you, because I feel it too." He gave Fuuma a great big bear hug, which Fuuma returned.

"I'm going now," he told Kamui. "Hopefully, we'll see each other again soon."

"Yeah. Goodbye, Fuuma," he said, looking years older from his sadness.

"…Goodbye," said Fuuma, feeling a pain in his heart that seemed almost too much to bear for him. Only the thought that Kamui must be feeling worse, and that he had to leave before Aunt Tooru saw him, gave him the strength to let go of Kamui and walk away. Each step seemed heavy to him, like his socks were made of cement.

He walked towards his house, each gust of wind that chilled him despite his flannel pajamas reminded him of those piercing pangs in his heart that threatened to make him cry.

With those pains, he felt that dark force that seemed to follow him everywhere pulse, as if laughing at him without even making a sound. It seemed to know that this was supposed to happen, and delighted in it.

Kamui watched Fuuma go, and it felt that he was taking all of his happiness with him. He stood numb for a few seconds before giving in to his despair. It seemed that he wasn't only crying for himself, but also for Fuuma, who seemed unable to cry, and Kotori, who didn't even know he was leaving.

His mother found him crying, and despite Kamui's worries, she merely hugged him and told him that soon the pain would go away, and that he had to remain strong. But, Kamui didn't agree, because it seemed he was leaving more then just his home and his friends- something wonderful and special he couldn't name. He had felt it when Fuuma had kissed him, but he knew that Fuuma had only done it to make him feel better, right?

His mother silently packed everything into the trunk and into the floorboards and seats till even Kamui had to sit on top of a few and hold onto one so that they could all fit. The only thing that wasn't obscured by boxes was the back window, so she could back out.

Kamui looked out the back window as they drove away, and noticed that the sun was coming up. Fuuma, who was walking up the steps to the shrine, noticed it as well. Both of them, being connected by fate, never got a clear view of the sunrise, because both of them were crying, and the sunrise lost its beauty in their sadness.


End file.
